Indiana Jones and the Lost Girl
by Amorgan
Summary: Cathleen Simmons was born to privilege. So why does she want to just dig in the dirt alongside her hero Dr. Henry Jones Jr. A Mutt/OC centered fic with major Indy/ Marion references.
1. Prologue

Perhaps it was the fact that she was never allowed to touch the treasures her father, Douglas Simmons III collected. Or maybe it was due to her fascination with books at an early age. And then there was the tiny fact that she rather enjoyed to test the patience of her father and grandmother. However, by the time Cathleen Iris Simmons reached Thorton's School for Girls there was a distinct difference between Cathleen's attitude and her peers.

Of course she wasn't going to let on about her different ideas. No, to talk about anything but fabric patterns, food recipes, and other 'women topics' was frowned upon by her strict upper-class breeding. So it was only pure luck that she was in Thorton's library the moment a small book by Dr. Henry Jones Jr. made its way onto the shelves. And fate was smiling that day when Cathleen was assigned a paper on a topic of her choice. And surely some miracle made her pick up Dr. Jones' book entitled _Ancient China and Its Influence in Today's Society_, which spurred her on to not only write about Chinese culture but start her on a fascination to find out more about this most ancient of societies.

Cathleen's saving grace from the torture known as high society came in the form of the news that she was accepted into Marshall College**. **Once she knew she was going there she had two goals; the first was to get a great education to pursue a career as a doctor. The second was to take at least one class with her idol, the famed archaeologist Dr. Henry Jones Jr. And much like Dr. Jones Cathleen's original desired major was archaeology. Once she told this idea to her father he replied that 'playing in the dirt' wasn't something that he would pay for. So, abandoning her first choice of study Cathleen enteredMarshall Collegea Pre-Med student. Though not a typical women's major of Art History or Literature. Cathleen knew that besides archaeology, medicine was meant for her. After all, her own mother died of a preventable complication from Cathleen's birth.

Once the young brunette graduated from Thorton's School for Girls, she found out that though her peers had been telling her she's too tall and too thin. Her striking blue eyes and chestnut hair made for a very interesting time during a short vacation at Martha's Vineyard. It was this summer in 1957 that Cathleen found out just how little she meant to her father and just how independent she could be.

And it is here that we join young Cathleen, three weeks after she's left Thorton's and two days out of her father's care.

"So, Cat," said a young tan man to Cathleen's right "I don't understand why you would want to be at this beach instead of the private one at your own beach house." As the young man sat down near Cathleen and passed her a soda she couldn't help but notice the dirt under his fingernails and the stained t-shirt and shorts he was wearing. When she compared his outfit to her crisp button down shirt, designer pedal pushers and pearl jewelry Cathleen realized that she must look completely out of place here. But what looked like a displaced person on the outside was actually a young woman who felt at home here on the crowded, ramshackle beach.

"Alan," Cathleen said before she took a long sip of her cold soda. "It's just different here. I hate being all alone. It doesn't matter how much money I have, without people around it's all worthless." Cathleen looked over at Alan who was now looking back at her with wide eyes. "Yes, I know it's a hard concept for someone coming from no money to understand. But let's say you had a choice between having money with no one to share it with, or a life full of family and friends who would do anything for you but no money. Which would you pick?"

"Well that's an unfair question," Alan said before taking a long drag from his soda. "I mean I already have the poor family thing. I'd like to try the money thing for a while." Alan laughed.

"I don't blame you. But like the saying goes 'the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence'." Cathleen smiled at Alan then realized his confused expression meant he didn't know of the saying. "It just means that, from another point of view usually another way of life always looks better. That is until you try it for yourself."

"Is that from Plato?" Alan asked jokingly.

"No, not every piece of useless quotes I have comes from 'those old Greek guys'. I think that grass saying might come from Bugs Bunny." Cathleen giggled as Alan looked amazed. "Yes even us prep school princesses have the occasional free moment to watch a cartoon or two. And that quote is just something I've always said to myself when I wish my life was different." Putting her soda bottle aside Cathleen leaned back onto the blanket beneath her.

"I know it's ridiculous," Cathleen shrugged. "But I've been beginning to realize that to Father I'm just a pawn to marry off to a rich family so he can have access to more money. And like you I've found that the person people want me to be isn't the person I am."

"Exactly," Alan nodded as he pulled Cathleen into his broader chest. "And I don't know which one of it has it harder, you with your rebellion against high society. Or me with my fascination with Rock Hudson's voice and John Wayne's eyes."

Cathleen smiled at the taller Alan. "You know, it took me almost two weeks to realize that you really just wanted to read my Shakespeare book and not kiss me. God, how dumb was I?"

"Not dumb at all," Alan said as he rubbed Cathleen's shoulder in comfort. "After all, how do you think I've been able to 'pass' around my totally Catholic family?"

"Well," Cathleen sat up quickly, "We shouldn't have to 'pass'. It's not fair to either of us, we're both not happy and with only a few changes we could be."

"Aw, Cat," Alan said through sips of his soda. "There you go getting all idealistic. I admit that the concept isn't tempting-"

"Then why don't we do it?" Cathleen practically yelled.

"We're so used to the status quo that to change it will require too much work." Alan sympathized with his young friend but at twenty he had come to the conclusion that his happiness with another man wasn't meant to be. However he saw in the eighteen-year-old Cathleen a slight hope that could change the course of her life. Unfortunately he wouldn't be around to see it come to fulfillment. For neither Cathleen or Alan knew it but at that very moment Alan's two oldest brothers were coming up with an idea on how to change their brother's 'perverted' ways. But that sad story is for another time. What is important is the next thing Alan said would remain with his young friend until her dying day. "Cat, promise me something. That if you ever feel your grass quote isn't enough, just remember that a beautiful few moments are so much better than an unhappy eternity."

"Wow, Alan," Cathleen looked down with wide eyes. "If I didn't know better I'd say that you were turning into my own personal Plato. You sure you don't have a little Greek in you?"

"Aw, Cat hunny I wish." Alan joined Cathleen's laughter and as the pair finished their sodas in silence Alan looked at his watch. "I have to go and meet my brothers. Have fun with your Grandmother Cat and tell me all about what Dreadful Dolores has to say tomorrow."

"I promise, Al." Cat waived him goodbye before she got up herself and took the blanket back with her to her beach house.

And so it was that during that summer Cathleen Iris Simmons ended up not only losing the first person who ever truly meant something to her. But she found in herself the courage to find her own happiness within herself and make her own beautiful moments whenever she could. No matter what her father, grandmother or anyone else said or did to dissuade her from her course of action.

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**Review and I will reciprocate.  
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	2. Dr Jones' Office

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the Indian Jones franchise. I'm just a fan with an imagination.

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From that summer where Cathleen Iris Simmons became 'Cat' we jump to a day one year and five months later and a place that had become something of a home to Cathleen; Marshall College. The now sophomore Cathleen was being given the chance she went to the college for. She just found out that, if cleared by Dr. Jones himself she would get to be in one of the few classes he was teaching in the 1959 Spring Semester. Cathleen had been told by the Registrar Office's secretary that Dr. Jones was to be in his office for exactly three hours and if she hurried she might be able to speak to him.

"But, I have no idea where Dr. Jones' office is," Cat said as she held back unshed tears in her dark blue eyes. As the secretary squinted her own light blue eyes at the young brunette, she smiled.

"Hm," the secretary turned and looked at the office behind her. "Ah, Henry, would you be a dear and take Miss Simmons to Dr. Jones' office." The older woman then turned back to Cathleen with a broad smile. "Henry knows his way around here better than even Dean Stanforth. Isn't that right, Henry?"

As Cathleen tried to see where the secretary was looking she was shocked to find a tall young man approach the desk. Wearing a leather jacket with a pair of khakis and playing with a small switchblade Cathleen was actually slightly amazed to find that someone like him would be allowed into Marshall. The man looked like he belonged in a dive bar with his greaser hair and beat up jacket. But apparently this young man was welcome enough at Marshall that even a stubborn woman like Mrs. Young would be willing to let him in her office. An office that Cathleen had come to know well with it's cherry wood floors and counters along with the red walls with their white chair railings and the crown moldings on the ceiling that housed a very nice but modest chandelier. Why if it wasn't for the tell-tale office furniture Cathleen wouldn't be surprised to find a room like this back at her father's house.

"Well, that's what Dad says," Henry smiled at the two women as he approached the counter that separated the two of them. "Besides, I just found a tunnel leading from the Dining Hall to one of the all-girl dormitories." Cathleen was shocked that instead of yelling at Henry Mrs. Young was actually laughing. Mrs. Young, the same woman who ignored Cathleen's first two attempts at getting into one of Dr. Jones' classes. Mrs. Young, of the white hair and horn-rimmed glasses and that accursed book with it's list of classes that says how many people are allowed in them.

"I'll be sure to alert the custodial staff to close that, then," the elder secretary then smiled at Cathleen and turned to walk away. "Now, Henry you be sure to behave with young Cathleen here. And don't give her any stories about Dr. Jones either. Miss Simmons has been coming to my desk for three semesters asking if she could have a class with him." Cathleen stood in awe as this Henry made his way through Mrs. Young's office as if he owned the place.

"I'll behave, Mrs. Young," Henry said as he waived to the secretary with a switchblade. But still Mrs. Young was smiling, Cathleen's only rationale for this behavior was that the woman was coming down with early dementia.

"And what did your father tell you about waving that thing about?" The secretary pointed to the blade.

"What 'thing', Mrs. Young?" Henry asked as he waved his empty hands in front of her. A feat Cathleen would have attributed to his cunning but for the fact that the purse at Cathleen's side was now containing said blade.

"Just go and show Miss Simmons to Dr. Jones' office," she blushed as she ushered the young pair out of the office. Cathleen grabbed her white hat and pulled it over her dark brown hair as Henry was holding the door open for her. This gave her time to see that he was wearing sneakers instead of dress shoes with his khakis. She was pleased to see that he at least had a white button down underneath his horrendous black jacket.

"Do you want it back, yet?" Cathleen asked as she walked through the doorway and buttoned her black cashmere coat after putting on her white leather gloves. As the bitter November chill made the short walk seem twice as long Cathleen noticed that the man next to her had a curious scar on his right cheek, right above where his hand was holding up the jacket's collar. But that was nothing compared to the hair! Honestly, a greaser? Complete with a D.A. And this man was supposed to be an expert around Marshall?

"Sure," Henry said as he held out his hand. Once Cathleen placed the blade in his hand Henry tossed it up in the air and pocketed it. Apparently he wanted a response from Cathleen because he stopped and turned around after the blade was inside his jacket.

"Quite impressive, Mr…" Cathleen paused as she waited to hear Henry's last name. Wrapping her thick coat around her and stuffing her chilled hands into her pockets Cathleen was surprised to find Henry staring at her.

"Henry's fine," he waived as he opened the door to the archaeology building. "So, you want to take a class with the great Dr. Jones, huh?" Henry let Cathleen enter first as the large doors closed behind them and the heat of the building enveloped them. Cathleen took a second to look around at the building she had never entered but always wished to. And she wasn't disappointed. With its wooden floors and plush rugs Cathleen had but seconds to take it all in before she realized Henry had walked on.

"It's one of the three reasons I picked Marshall College," Cathleen said as she did her best to keep up with Henry while unbuttoning her coat.

"Three?" Henry asked as he leaned against a railing leading up to the next floor. "Okay, I'm interested. What's number one?"

"What?" Cathleen asked, nearly out of breath as she reached the railing.

"You heard me." Henry turned to walk up the stairs. "What is your number one reason for coming to Marshall College?"

Cathleen stopped on the busy steps, looking up at Henry in disbelief. She didn't need to answer to anyone, let alone someone who looked for secret tunnels and had a strange obsession with knives. However, as she was being bumped by the other students who passed her on the stairs. Cathleen realized that she just admitted to a near stranger something she didn't even tell her own father. And once she reached Henry she looked him in the eye and admitted. "Okay, and I don't know why I'm telling you this," Cathleen adjusted her purse on her shoulder. "But my number one reason was that this was one of the two co-ed schools that my father was willing to pay the tuition for."

"Makes sense," Henry nodded as he opened the door to a hallway. "So, number three?"

"Number three?" Cathleen walked through the door Henry was holding. She took special care to notice that despite his appearance this Henry was quite polite.

"Yep," Henry said as he slowly walked down the hallway. "You said you had three reasons. One was that daddy would pay. Two, you wanted to take a class with Dr. Jones. But you've yet to tell me the third reason." Henry stopped walking as he reached a door in the middle of the hallway. As his dark brown eyes looked into Cathleen's dark blue she couldn't help a nervous hand brush a nonexistent stray hair out of her face."And you don't have that much time. Dr. Jones is a quite busy man. So hurry up and tell me and I'll introduce you." With that bribe set Cathleen realized that those dark eyes had a keen mind behind them. A mind she wanted to stay far away from, no matter how polite he was.

"Fine, the third is that besides the Archaeology Department the next best thing about Marshall College is the prestigious Pre-Med program." Cathleen glared and saw Henry was looking at her strangely. "What, is my lipstick smeared?"

"No," Henry said, "I just figured you were an ambitious Literature major who wanted to take a class with-"

But Henry was unable to finish his thought as the door he was leaning on opened up behind him and he nearly fell through. As Cathleen stepped back so Henry could regain his balance she managed to see the person who opened the door. And had to admit that Dr. Henry Jones Jr. looked just as grand in person as he did in his picture.

"What did I tell you about lurking?" the bespectacled Dr. Jones asked.

"I'm not lurking," Henry said as he took out a comb to fix his hair. "I came to show her the way to your office." Henry then pointed to Cathleen and was treated to Dr. Jones' full scowl. "Um, Cathleen Simmons, this is Dr. Jones. And now I will be leaving, it was nice to meet you, Cathleen." Henry quickly walked away before Cathleen could respond.

"So, Miss Simmons," Dr. Jones leaned against the door frame. "What brings you to my door today?" Though his body was facing Cathleen the young woman noticed that Dr. Jones kept looking at Henry until he disappeared from sight. A fact that she was fine with since she needed a few moments to collect her thoughts before she talked to the great Dr. Jones.

"I just came to perhaps get your written permission to enter your Archaeology 254 class. I know its full but-"

"Oh, you're the one that the Registrar's Office keeps talking about. Mrs. Young is quite fond of telling me all about the strange girl who is determined to get into one of my classes. But, Miss Simmons why is it that you are so set in attending one of my classes?" Dr. Jones asked with a smile as he walked back into his office. "And please come in."

Cathleen followed the gray haired taller man slowly through the door to his office and took a look around her. Completely awestruck by the artifacts and books inside the room Cathleen felt a blush come up on her face when she saw Dr. Jones was waiting for her to speak. Unfortunately she was at a loss for words. Here she was in a room full of historical artifacts and Dr. Jones was acting as if it was nothing special. A stark contrast to her home life for although her father was also fond of historical pieces, Cathleen was almost never allowed into the room he kept them in. And even when she was she felt as if it was a museum and not the home she was raised in.

"Well, Dr. Jones. I was a senior when I read your book and-"

"Which one, Miss Simmons?" asked Dr. Jones as he began to pace around his desk.

"The one you published in 1957, Dr. Jones."

"Miss Simmons," Dr. Jones said as he stepped in front of her. "Do you by chance have a copy of that book with you?"

"I'm sorry?" Cathleen asked nervously as she showed Dr. Jones the small white purse she brought with her that matched the gloves and hat she was wearing. "I don't think it would fit in my bag, Sir."

Dr. Jones stopped pacing and looked at Cathleen's outfit. If she didn't know that her attire was some of the best from New York Cathleen would have thought that Dr. Jones disapproved of her clothing. As it was he merely shrugged and took a seat on a trunk near the large window.

"No, I suppose it wouldn't. But tell me, have you read it from cover to cover?" he asked as he took off his glasses and wiped them on a handkerchief.

"Yes," Cathleen nodded furiously. "Four times actually," she admitted with a blush.

"Four? Wow, that's impressive. Considering the fact that my own son hasn't even read it once," Dr. Jones shrugged. "Ah well, I'm just happy I got him to go to school."

"Dr. Jones, may I ask a question?" Cathleen took off her gloves and wrung them in her hands in nervous anticipation.

"Of course," he motioned her to sit on a chair in front of his desk.

"Well," Cathleen sat down and unbuttoned her coat. "I was wondering how you made it seem like you actually visited China while incorporating so many historical facts."

"Miss Simmons, you have to remember that the China that I know isn't exactly the China that you know." Dr. Jones said as he put his glasses on once more. "I _have_ visited China. Twice actually." Dr. Jones laughed as Cathleen shook her head in dismay.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "It's just that I read your book at a time when all the text books at my school were very dry and as you can tell it's stuck with me."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it so much," he smiled as he stood up and walked over to his desk. "Now I have a question for you," Without looking up at her, Dr. Jones opened a book on his crowded desk. Cathleen couldn't help notice how very messy it was. Not that she was complaining but when one is raised in a house where cleanliness is more important than godliness it's rather hard not to pick up on messes. As she looked the legs of the desk over Cathleen noticed that it looked rather Napoleonic in it's style, but Dr. Jones was using it as if it was just a college issued piece. "Miss Simmons?" Dr. Jones asked as he broke her out of her trance.

"I'm sorry, Sir," Cathleen apologized as she felt her face heat up once again.

"Don't be sorry, Miss Simmons," Dr. Jones said as he came around his desk and sat on it's edge. "Can you tell me about this desk I'm sitting on?"

"What?" she asked, stunned.

"This desk," Dr. Jones then rapped on the wooden surface. "Without touching it, can you tell me about it?"

"Well, it looks like it was made in the Napoleon era," Cathleen said as she crossed her ankles modestly.

"Good," Dr. Jones nodded as he walked behind her. "And this, what might this be?" Cathleen turned around to face him and found a civil war musket pointed at her chest. As she let go a tiny scream she jumped out of her chair and watched it fall to the ground. "Don't worry, it's not loaded." He laughed as he placed the gun down on the floor. "I'm sorry, but I just wanted to see if I could rattle you."

"Well," Cathleen said breathlessly. "It worked."

"I can see that," Dr. Jones replied, "But, what can you tell me about it." He then went around Cathleen and picked up the chair.

"It looks like a Civil War era musket. But I don't think it really is." Cathleen said as she looked at the gun's barrel closer.

"Oh?" Dr. Jones said as he looked to see what exactly Cathleen was looking at.

"I think it's a replica of one. And if you paid more than fifty dollars for it, then you were terribly taken advantage of." Cathleen rubbed the smooth leather of her purse as Dr. Jones stared her down.

"Well done, Miss Simmons." Dr. Jones applauded after he put the gun back on the table. "Almost no one has gotten that right. In fact besides myself, my wife, and our son you're the only one to actually realize it's not real." Dr. Jones then went to the filling cabinet and pulled out a small folder which he slowly walked over to the desk with. "Now I have one last question before I sign you into the class," he said as he sat down behind the desk. "You remember that young man who brought you up to this office?"

"Yes," Cathleen said as she clutched her purse tightly.

"Would you be willing to work on a project with him if I told you that he has a three point five grade point average?" Dr. Jones looked at Cathleen above the rim of his classes. As Cathleen pondered over this news she looked at the wall above Dr. Jone's head and saw a series of masks hanging, all of which looked quite intimidating and rather frightening to Cathleen's fragile sensibilites.

"Three point five?" Dr. Jones nodded. "Well then, no I wouldn't mind working with him." Cathleen added in her head _'Even though he is a greaser and might cut me without a thought'_

"Excellent!" he yelled as he grabbed a pen and wrote on the paper inside the folder. "Well then I expect to see you the first day of class in the Spring Semester, Miss Simmons."

"That's it? I'm in the class?" Cathleen asked as she brought out her gloves.

"Yes, that's it. I'll get the paperwork to Mrs. Young." Dr. Jones said as he closed the folder and folded his hands over it. "Unless you've changed your mind in the last minute or so."

"No, sir," Cathleen shook her head as she began to walk towards the door.

"Well then, the next time we'll meet will be in class." He got up as Cathleen neared the door and opened it for her. "And Miss Simmons, it truly was a pleasure to meet you."

"Like wise, Dr. Jones," Cathleen quickly put on her gloves before she shook the professor's outstretched hand. And as she stepped out of Dr. Jones' office she couldn't help the smile that came on her face as she walked out of the building to her dorm room. Once she reached the door to her dorm hall Cathleen remembered the promise she made to her father about never taking an archaeology class. With that thought her smile broadened as she reached the large wooden door and stepped inside.

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**Review and I will reciprocate.**


	3. First Day

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Indiana Jones franchise. I'm just a fan with an imagination.**

**Author's Note****: A couple of you are saying Mutt would never go by Henry, and bring back the Williams last name. Well I just saw Indy IV for the second time and at the end Oxley says 'well done, Henry' and both Henry's answer 'thanks, Ox'. And also, we're not given a time period between the skull 'incident' and the wedding. So it could be reasonable that some bonding happened, and 'Lost Girl' takes place at least a year after the wedding. My feeling is that Mutt would warm up to Indy enough to realize the power of the Jones name at Marshall College and suck it up when people call him Henry and not Mutt. Remember, the Fifties were still a conservative time and my little Mrs. Young would never call anyone by anything but than their Christian name. Lastly, I'm so glad that you all seem to like Cathleen. But sorry to disappoint she won't change her major to Archaeology, her father's influence goes too deep.**

**And now, back to our story.**

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Usually Cathleen found her science classes quite enjoyable. Especially when they were talking about medical phenomenon, which was today's topic. However she couldn't help her mind from wandering to the class following this one. For today was the day of her first class with Dr. Jones and she was having trouble keeping most of the contents of her breakfast inside her stomach due to her nerves. As a shaking manicured hand reached up to pull her dark hair behind her ear she noticed that all the men in the class that weren't paying attention to the professor were looking at her. This was a regular occurrence for Cathleen, being one of the only four women in the Pre-Med program gathered attention of both the wanted and unwanted variety. But today that attention was very unwanted for if she was to get sick during the lecture half of the men would assist her but the other half would be pleased to see she couldn't stand seeing the slides of conjoined twins preserved in a jar. They didn't think she knew about the bets that were being taken as to how long Cathleen would last in the program. But thanks to her roommate's boyfriend, Jared she knew that the pot was now up to nearly 200 and increasing by the day. She also knew, due to Jared that none of the other girls had bets going to see how long they would last in the program because 'well, they're rather ugly' as Jared said. What looks had to do with being a doctor she didn't know but Cathleen was only encouraged by the pessimists' gamble.

Finally, the professor was assigning work and had the slide projector turned off. Relief came swiftly as Cathleen quickly scribbled down the assignments and gathered her things. Quickly going into the isle leading to the exit she was relieved to find a friendly face waiting for in the lobby. As Richard's green eyes spotted her he was immediately making his way through the sea of mainly male bodies. Though Cathleen appreciated his thoughtfulness she found it rather awkward that he put this much effort into what she thought was a lost cause. It wasn't that she didn't like Richard but he wasn't dating material, let alone marrying material. In fact, if Cathleen wasn't mistaken if she took the pleasant Richard home to meet Father. Richard would probably be in tears the moment he left the manor. However, she wasn't about to rebuke the help he offered her with carrying books and things like that.

"Hi, Richard," Cathleen said as she shifted her books to her opposite arm. "How long have you been waiting today?" she plastered on a huge smile and watched as Richard blushed. His record for waiting was two hours when Cathleen's lab ran over and she forgot that he would be waiting outside.

"Only fifteen minutes," Richard returned her smile as he held his hands out. A feat that was quite impressive as Richard had three thick books of his own in his arms. "Wow, five this time? How do you manage it, Cathy?" He asked as he took the books from Cathleen's hands and turned around to go to the Dining Hall. Cathleen realized that he wasn't going to wait for her so she pulled on her jacket, adjusted her purse and hurried to catch him; all the while resisting the urge to say: 'call me Cathleen'.

"Oh, Richard," Cathleen said as she waved to a few friends. "I guess it's just from all those years of dancing and horseback riding. I just don't find five books nearly as heavy as a saddle and I'm used to holding my hands up for a while when I dance." She wasn't about to add that she wasn't as weak as most people thought. Because saying that would be impolite and ruin Cathleen's image of the polite, nice, smart socialite. Ah, labels what the world would be without them.

"Still, Cathy," Cathleen inwardly cringed as she managed to broaden her smile. "I'm amazed at how you do it all. What with Glee Club, Daughters of the American Revolution, Lambda Iota Tau, and the five classes you're taking. I can't believe you don't faint at the sight of another book." Richard shuffled his books around as he reached to open the Dining Hall's door for Cathleen.

"Well what can I say, Richie?" Cathleen laughed. "I think if I wasn't so busy I wouldn't have a clue as to what do to with myself." Once Richard caught up with her they both put their coats, hats, books and gloves in the cubbies. "But you're no slouch when it comes to activities, Richard. What with you being an aide in the science department, in the Science Club plus there's the basketball team. And aren't you taking four classes yourself?" Cathleen waited for another blush to come on Richard's face as they walked to the desk to check in for lunch.

"Gee, Cathy it's nothing," Richard led the way to the hall and opened the door for Cathleen. Immediately the noise of students eating, talking and laughing overwhelmed the pair as they headed to the buffet line to order. "We'll both have the special, please." Richard said without bothering to ask if Cathleen's stomach could handle turkey with gravy, mashed potatoes and a biscuit with plenty of vegetables on the side. Unfortunately she knew that if she protested Richard will tell her that it's important that a growing girl like her needs a well-balanced meal.

"Cathy!" she heard a familiar scream from one of the larger tables in the room. Without bothering to look around Cathleen smiled at Richard and waited a few moments before the woman that screamed so loudly came up to Cathleen and gave her a huge hug. "It's been ages." Once Cathleen got her plate on her tray she turned to face the small blonde with a big voice otherwise known as Helen Fuster. Helen was perhaps one of a handful of people who Cathleen could trust with some of her most important secrets. And since Helen and she were the same size it was an added benefit when Helen agreed to share clothes, especially the dungarees that were strictly forbidden in Cathleen's wardrobe.

"Helen, it's only been since breakfast," Richard said as he followed the pair to the table Helen was sitting at.

"Exactly, Richamundo," Helen nodded furiously at the taller man. "Three whole hours without my Cathleen is three hours too long." Helen quickly made room for Cathleen and Richard at the table. Which required quite a bit of musical chairs and the removal of the all the trays on the table.

"You hear that Cathleen," said a smiling man at the opposite end of the table. Frank Maddick, Helen's boyfriend was making room for Helen as he winked at Cathleen. "Why if I didn't know better I'd say I have competition," Frank avoided a playful slap on the arm from Helen as he wrapped his arm around her waist.

"Oh, you," Helen said as she took a bite of the turkey on her plate. All the while completely unaware of the by-play that was occurring right next to her. For although Helen was a wonderful person she had yet to catch onto the fact that whenever Cathleen is alone with Frank, the elder Frank always hits on her. Again one more of those unwelcome advances and Cathleen still hadn't figured out how to tell Helen the truth.

"So, Cath how was your first day? We've already heard all about Helen's," Frank asked as he gave her a smile that effectively ruined her already light appetite.

"Oh you know, the usual," Cathleen said to the table of seven. "Professors think that they're the smartest people in the world and spend at least an hour trying to convince us of that." Cathleen joked as the table laughed in reply and moved on to Richard who was holding his own telling a story about this year's basketball team.

Again, Cathleen did her best to concentrate but the fact that Richard's head was right below a clock only made her bite the inside of her cheek in anticipation. As she waited until the clock hit quarter to one she excused herself. Which made Richard ask if he could help her, luckily Helen took care of that for her as she asked him more about the basketball team. Mouthing 'thank you' to her friend Cathleen gathered her practically uneaten lunch and put it on her tray before taking it to the dishwasher's window.

In a matter of minutes Cathleen was bundled up against the January winter and on her way to her dorm to drop of the books in her arms and pick up the books for her afternoon class. Once she made her way into the dorm's lobby Cathleen had to make it through a small group of girls who wanted to catch up with her. Promising some time after dinner that night Cathleen rushed to her room, quickly unlocked the door, dropped the books on the desk and grabbed her already read Archaeology books. As she read the note her roommate, Debbie left Cathleen rushed out of the room, locked the door and stored the key in her purse. The very same purse she went to Dr. Jones's office with over a month ago. A thought that did nothing to diminish her already heightened nerves.

As she followed a small group into the Archaeology building she took a deep breath and made her way to room 109. The short walk seemed even shorter as her nerves took completely control. And her stomach did a huge flip flop when she entered the room to find it already occupied. Dr. Jones and Henry stopped in the middle of their conversation and both looked at her.

"Ah, Miss Simmons," Dr. Jones said as he picked up the brief case in front of him. "I see you are well on your way to becoming one of my best students." Behind Dr. Jones she saw Henry roll his eyes in disgust.

"I'm sorry," Cathleen said with a blush that had nothing to do with the building's heating system interacting with her well-insulated body. "If you would like me to leave and come back."

Dr. Jones took one look back at Henry and said something that Cathleen couldn't catch but made the younger man smile. Looking back at Cathleen Dr. Jones proceeded to walk toward the entrance she was currently standing in. "No, Miss Simmons," he said as he stared the younger woman down. "I have to get some things from my office so I'll return when class starts." Without a further word Dr. Jones made his way past Cathleen and into the hallway. "See you in a bit, Miss Simmons, Mr. Jones."

As both young people replied "Goodbye, Dr. Jones," Cathleen turned and walked further into room, keeping an eye on Henry the whole time. He might have a 3.5 grade point average but he was still wearing that black leather jacket and playing with that switchblade. No matter how smart he might be Cathleen swore that she would never trust him. Why she agreed to work with him on this assigned project was beyond her, but as they say 'in for a penny, in for a pound.' So it was with a sigh that Cathleen placed her books on a desk in the middle of the room and took off her jacket.

"So I guess we're going to be stuck together for this project," Cathleen said with her back turned to Henry.

"I guess," Henry replied and Cathleen heard the stairs creek quietly, signaling that Henry was approaching. "And just for the record I'm not keen on doing this project with you."

"Funny," Cathleen said as she turned and sat in her chair. "I feel the same way. However, Dr. Jones said that if I'm to be in this class I have to do this project with you." Cathleen was speechless as Henry dropped his books in the desk right beside her and took out a comb.

"Yeah," Henry slowly took the comb through his hair. "He told me about his little clause. But you don't have an idea about what this project is, do you?"

Cathleen crossed her legs in frustration. Of course she didn't know what the project was! "No," she said through clenched teeth. And once Henry sat in the desk's chair she bobbed her heeled foot back and forth. "But I plan to give it my all. I hope you plan to do the same."

"Oh," Henry snorted, "Don't worry, I will."

"Wait," Cathleen stopped bobbing her foot and snapped her head toward the smug Henry. "You know what this project is?"

"Yep," Henry said as he drug his comb through is hair.

"Would you mind sharing this information?" Cathleen asked as she began to unreasonably get quite mad at Henry's comb.

"Yep," Cathleen frowned as Henry put the comb away. "Sorry, but I promised, Da-" Henry snapped his head up and looked at the confused Cathleen. "I mean, I promised Dr. Jones that I would keep quiet about it."

"Of course you did," Cathleen mumbled as she noticed that people were entering the classroom and the pair of them were getting a bit of attention. Unfortunately she wanted answers more than she wanted to look proper and besides, none of the students in the class were people she knew. So with modesty aside, Cathleen turned to completely face Henry.

"Don't worry," Henry said as he turned to face Cathleen. "You'll find out today, so cool it."

"Fine," Cathleen said as another thought popped into her head. "Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Whoa," Henry put his hands up, "I don't know, Cat-"

"Cathleen" she corrected him.

"All right, I don't know about that... _Cathleen_," Henry shrugged. "I don't think we're that close yet." To this Henry slightly moved his desk toward Cathleen after two students walked through the isle that separated them. "Okay, close enough. Now ask."

"I just wanted to ask if your grade point average really is 3.5." Cathleen noticed that Henry's hand went to his knee and gripped it tight before he responded. The khaki fabric that covered his leg wrinkled due to its treatment.

"Yeah, so?" Henry quickly look toward the window.

"Well it's just surprising is all." Cathleen shrugged as she turned to see Dr. Jones enter the room. However Henry was far from finished talking and hadn't seen the elder man enter.

"What?" Henry whispered, furious. "You find it surprising that someone who looks like me can actually put a competent sentence together? Well, I'll have you know that-"

"Mr. Jones," Dr. Jones interrupted Henry's ranting. "I'm sure Miss Simmons is not questioning your mental capabilities. She might just be curious as to your academic achievements. However, I believe that such questions could be saved for after my class. No matter how much Miss Simmons' curiosity is getting the better of her." At this Dr. Jones turned and began writing on the board behind him. "Isn't that right, Miss Simmons?"

"Yes, Dr. Jones," Cathleen, sufficiently admonished glared daggers at Henry.

"And, Mr. Jones," Henry looked startled as Dr. Jones said his name. "I'm sure that future interruptions during my class will be limited at most, correct?" Dr. Jones then turned around and looked at the slack jawed Henry.

"Yes, _Dr. Jones._" Henry said and Cathleen took special notice to the fact that when Henry put emphasis on 'Dr. Jones' the professor actually smiled instead of lecturing the man for proper address to his elders. This fact only made Cathleen question the interesting relationship between Dr. Jones and Henry. However, Cathleen couldn't focus on that too long as her attention was drawn back to Dr. Jones who began to explain the course.

"To Archaeology 254 otherwise known as Archaeological Studies: Material Culture Analysis." The opening of 24 notebooks could be heard and as 24 pencils were heard writing in those notebooks Dr. Jones went on as if he heard nothing. What surprised Cathleen was that even Henry had a notebook out and the pen in his hand was moving furiously on it. "Now, although Miss Simmons and Mr. Jones exhibited some of the challenging discussions I like in my class. I would appreciate that those discussions be constructive and open, though I thank you both for the wonderful demonstration." Dr. Jones smiled as 22 pairs of eyes concentrated on the two people in the middle of the room. "All right, now to the meat, I'm passing out the syllabus for the course. And though I like structure, as with anything it is subject to change." As the white paper made it's way to Cathleen she quickly glanced it over. When she saw that the reading was sparsely scattered along the semester she was pleased. But the big thing she saw was that the grade division was listed right next to the professor's hours and that the final project was 50 of the final grade. Apparently Henry knew this information because as she looked over to him he was pointing that fact out to her and winked. "Now as to the grade distribution, you will notice that I have made the final project 50 of the grade. Now I will explain this later but bear in mind that if you have the right partner you will be responsible for 25 of that partner's grade.

"Looking down below you will find my assignment list and also see that I have put an equal distribution of trips and reading assignments. I am a firm believer that true knowledge comes from a combination of first hand experience and learning from others. Now, on these trips some physical exertion might be required. But I'm not taking you to dig in the dirt. I hope that most of you got that out of your system when you were kids." Dr. Jones took a deep breath as a nervous laugh ran through the classroom. Cathleen didn't join in the laughter. Instead she saw that Henry had taken out his blade and begun twirling it underneath his desk. "But if you haven't," Dr. Jones continued, "Bravo to you. My hat is off to you for your gumption to get your hands dirty and see what's actually out there for yourselves instead of taking what others do as fact." The nervous laughter that spread through the classroom earlier was silenced. As Cathleen looked out of the corner of her eye she saw that Henry was smiling broadly at Dr. Jones who immediately turned toward the board. "Okay, as you see our first trip is to the American Museum of Natural History a place I hope you are at least familiar with in name." Cathleen was, in fact she had been there many times whenever her father donated a piece out of his collection. And every time she hated it for the pomp and circumstance given over a simple clay pot someone spit in over 500 years ago. "Now as for the museum I have a couple friends who work there and I myself have contributed a couple pieces. So if you're thinking that this is going to be a tour you've been on before, sorry." Cathleen wanted to believe him but considering the fact of what her father contributed, and how often he's done so. She was sure that she'd seen the very best of what the museum had to offer.

"Okay, now for the project," Dr. Jones turned around quickly as everyone in the room looked at him. And if they were anything like Cathleen they were all holding their breath in anticipation. "Thought that would get your attention," Dr. Jones said smugly. "Okay, I've already assigned two of you as partners but the rest of you can pick your own. However, I'd like to warn you that once you pick this partner it's sort of like a contract between the two of you to me saying that you're going to stick out my course this semester. I'll give you a chance to pick your partner before the end of class but first I'd like to explain the project." Dr. Jones then sat down in the chair behind his desk and leaned back. "It's rather simple you see. All you need to do is make up your own culture, complete with artifacts and statistics." A slight murmur ran through the students at this news and Cathleen whipped her head to where Henry leaned back in his chair, playing with that switchblade.

"You knew about this?" Cathleen whispered across the isle.

"Yep. Wait, it gets better," Henry said as he began to take notes again.

"All right, calm down. I'm not through yet," Dr. Jones gave a smile to the class that Cathleen could swear wasn't entirely kind. "I'll need a ten page paper on your made up culture. A paper you and your partner will write up jointly and also you will inform the class of your culture during one class. Sort of like a lecture on your own personal culture." Dr. Jones then got up from his chair and went to the front of the desk. "Now, before I give you a quiz I'd like to give the option I give at every first class." He then took off his glasses and rubbed them with a handkerchief from his pocket. "You have two minutes to decide if you want to stick out this semester. Maybe I'll give you three, it depends how long it takes me to get out my grade book and call your name." And once again that odd grin came back and Cathleen could feel her heart beating out of her chest. But she knew she wouldn't walk out. She was too determined to go against her father to give up just because something seemed a little challenging.

"_A little challenging, Cat?" _She said asked herself. _"Learning pointe was a little challenging. Getting the blue ribbon in your last horse show was a little challenging. This is almost impossible!"_ And though that little voice was quite convincing, Cathleen crossed her legs once so that she would make it even harder for her to walk out. Looking around her Cathleen noticed that the class was fewer six people and two more were getting ready leave also. Of course Henry was still sitting back in his chair playing with that vexatious switchblade. Honestly, shouldn't such things be banned in an academic setting?

"Okay, now to roll," Dr. Jones called the class to attention as he began to call out names and just as she expected, Cathleen didn't know a single soul. Well except for Henry of the Switchblade Obsessed. "Adams, Marie," as the professor went down the list Cathleen paid half attention to him that was until "Jones, Henry" was called and instead of the usual 'here' all Henry did was wave his hand right after the switchblade disappeared. But again as people were waiting for Dr. Jones to say something all he did was look up, nod his head and go back to calling roll.

"_What is the deal with these two?"_ Cathleen wondered again about the relationship between Henry Jones and Dr. Jones. _"Any other professor would lecture him but he's done something like that twice now._" But once again Cathleen was drawn away from her musings as Dr. Jones called out:

"And lastly, Simmons, Cathleen," Dr. Jones wrote down something in his book before he closed it and Cathleen said:

"Here." Though she said it loud enough all Dr. Jones did was go back to the chair and sit in it.

"Pity really," he mused. "We had a perfect attendance when we started. Ah, well can't ask for everything. But now I'm going to give you all a little quiz." As notebooks and pens became active once again he waved his hand. "No, all you'll need is your mind and your hand. In fact, why don't you all put your notebooks, pens and such underneath your desks, all right?" he waited for everyone to clear their desk before continuing. "So even though this is a quiz I'm not going to grade you. I just want to see the kind of class I'm dealing with. In fact, let's call it a game. Yes I like that, a little game." Dr. Jones hopped out of his chair and went to the board. "Okay, I'll write down everyone's name and keep score when you raise your hand you get a point. Now the rules are these; if you have done one of my questions or it applies to you, raise your hand. I'll give you all an easy one first. Just let me write down your names." As he scribbled down everyone's last name Cathleen noticed that Henry was leaning forward in his chair… almost as if he was paying attention. "Okay, so first question is who here decided to stay for the course?" Fourteen hands rose in the air and the doctor wrote down the score. "Good, now who here has traveled out of the state they were born in. Huh, only twelve out of fourteen? That's interesting, and that will change when we all visit the museum."

As Dr. Jones turned back to the board to write down the score Cathleen began to wonder if all of the quizzes/games in the class would be as easy. She knew she was wrong but still, it was a fun thought. And as she put up her hand for 'how many people have traveled out of the country?' Cathleen saw that she was only one of three to do so. The second was another girl by the window and the third was... Henry.

Slowly the questions got more and more intense and when Dr. Jones announced the final question of 'who here knows more than two languages?' the only two people who raised their hands were her and Henry. In fact, the two of them were the only ones in the whole entire class to raise their hands for every single question. And unfortunately that also meant that they tied the game with the highest score. Something Cathleen's competitive nature found quite annoying.

"Well," Dr. Jones said as he wiped the chalk board clean. "It seems that I picked the right first pair for the project." This little fact only helped twelve sets of eyes look curiously at Cathleen and Henry. As Cathleen felt a familiar heat on her face she saw a tell-tale shine come from Henry's hand. "And now, I will dismiss you all early. Just remember to pick your project partners soon. I'll ask you to say your partners at next class." Dr. Jones was immediately swamped with students and though Cathleen had her own questions. She had a strange feeling that the look Dr. Jones gave through his glasses to where she and Henry were sitting wasn't only meant for Henry. But for now she would get back to her dorm and get going on starting to look for a culture for this project. Besides, his office hours were listed on the syllabus. If she wanted to speak to him again she'd know where to go and maybe this time he wouldn't pretend to shoot her.

"Cat-" Henry said at her side as he got up with her.

"It's _Cathleen_." She said as she pulled on her jacket and gathered her things.

"Sorry, Cathleen, listen do you want to get started on the project tonight?" Henry began to follow Cathleen out of the room as she stopped in her tracks at the question.

"You want to get a head start on this project?" she asked with her eyebrows up to her hairline.

"Let's just say it'll be a good idea." Henry then walked past her into the hallway. Cathleen quickly composed herself enough to realize that Henry just might be serious about this.

"Okay," Cathleen said as she put on her gloves and walked up to the taller man. "I'll agree to meet you at the library after dinner if you answer me one thing."

"Another question, Cathleen?" Henry asked as he zipped up his jacket and walked downstairs.

"Just one, Henry," Cathleen rushed down the fairly empty stairs to find Henry now by the door. "And could you please slow down? These heels are new and sort of hard to walk in."

"I can see that," Henry pointed to his boots. "You really should get a pair of boots like these."

"I have my galoshes, thank you very much. But could you tell me how it is that you know Dr. Jones?" Cathleen looked into Henry's eyes as they widened and then he backed up to the door.

"Let's just say, Cathleen that he's a… family friend. Now, will you meet me at the library or not?" Cathleen thought about his answer for a second and then sighed.

"All right," she agreed. "But can I at least pick the time?" Henry adjusted his books in his arms while staring Cathleen down.

"Sure," Henry nodded.

"Is half past seven all right?" Cathleen didn't know why but suddenly a bout of nerves hit her stomach as Henry thought a little too long. "I mean if you've-"

"No, that's fine." Henry turned and walked out the hall. "See you then, _Cathleen_."

Henry had long disappeared from sight before Cathleen had enough courage to walk out the hall to her dorm room and tell her roommate that she was meeting with a greaser at seven thirty. She could practically hear Debbie's lecture now, but what was she to do? The project was half of the grade and it was actually _Henry_ not her that made the first move to meet. As her muddled thoughts were somewhat cleared by her walking out into the cold January air. Cathleen's next thought was that her grandmother would want to withdraw her from Marshall the second she found out about her granddaughter's plans that evening. And as usual this sobering thought only encouraged Cathleen to figure out how to arrive at the library earlier.

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**Author's Note****: Okay I need advice. When should Cathleen discover just who Henry is exactly? I can either do it in the next chapter or the chapter after that. Tell me in reviews, please. And, as always if you review I will reciprocate!**

**Amorgan.**


	4. The Man and the Manor

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Indiana Jones franchise. I'm just a fan with an imagination.**

**Author's Note: First, much thanks to my beta Sandstar08. And now for the tad confusion that occurred with this chapter; basically I put in chapter 4 before it was proofed and that's why you got the alert but no chapter. However all confusion is settled and I hope you enjoy this chapter as a glimpse into Cathleen's life. These next two chapters will be similar, for to understand what Cathleen does later you have to understand where she is coming from.**

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Cathleen knew that things were bad when she got a telegram – instead of a letter or phone call – from her father. A phone call meant that he could compose himself enough to talk; a letter meant that the topic of discussion was upsetting but not upsetting enough for immediate action; but a telegram meant business and that though he wasn't able to talk he wanted his way. What made matters even worse was the very precise and direct instructions that the telegram contained. Originally Cathleen had planned to finish her classes on Friday and on Saturday morning her grandmother would pick her up from school to take her to get her dress for her grandfather's 75th birthday extravaganza. But this new plan meant Cathleen barley had 10 minutes to leave school once her last class was over on Friday if she was to be in Greenwich Connecticut by dinner time.

As she did her best to hold on to a semblance of composure Cathleen could barely concentrate on Helen's monologue. Cathleen loved Helen like a sister, maybe even more so considering her lack of siblings. But once Helen was on a rant it took a major event to stop her. Luckily Cathleen had the perfect distraction.

"Helen," Cathleen said to the shorter blonde. "I need to make a run to my room." Cathleen didn't bother checking behind her to see if Helen was following her as she made her way to her dorm. She knew Helen well enough to know that the rambunctious blond was hot on her heels. And considering that Helen was wearing a sensationally high pair of heels the fact that the tell-tale clap could be heard all the way to the dorm was even more impressive. But that was who Helen was; she had always been a 'why not' type of girl.

As Cathleen got curious stares from students who were shocked to see the normally reserved young woman running down the college's paths. She was making a mental list of all the things she needed to pack. With the refreshing February chill brushing past her flushed cheeks Cathleen was momentarily taken off course as she was nearing a group of girls who were going incredibly slow.

"Cathleen," one of the girls called out as she passed. "Where are you going?"

"Home," Cathleen called over her back and sped up as she got closer and closer to the dorm hall. Once her foot made contact with the front step Cathleen took a deep breath and fished for her key as Helen caught up with her.

"Cathleen," Helen said as she caught her breath on the dorm's steps. "Why exactly did we need to make a mad dash from the Student Center to Fergus Hall?" Cathleen shoved the tiny telegram in Helen's hand.

Without saying a word Cathleen opened the door and led Helen through the lobby. Once the two women began to climb the stairs leading to Cathleen's dorm, she nervously put her hand through her windswept hair. Feeling the loose strands curl around her hand, Cathleen added another task to her list of things that need to be done before she left for Greenwich.

"Wait, when did this arrive?" Helen asked as they reached the floor for Cathleen's room. The empty hall echoed the sound of Helen's heels and the sound was beginning to grate on Cathleen's nerves.

"I don't know, Helen," she said honestly. "All I know is that it wasn't in my mailbox during my lunch break. So obviously he acted fast." Cathleen looked down at Helen and saw sympathy come upon her friend's face. "Please, don't pity me. I need your help to pack." Cathleen unbuttoned her coat and looked down at her wrinkled dress. "Do you think I need to change?" Cathleen opened the already unlocked door and found her roommate, Debbie working on her typewriter.

"Cathleen, what are you doing here?" Debbie asked as she took off her glasses, "I thought you were supposed to-"

"Change of plans Debaroo," Helen told her, "Apparently, Mr. Simmons wants to speak to Cathleen 'prior to the party's preparations'." Helen walked over to Debbie and showed her the exact line in the telegram. Meanwhile Cathleen, pulling out her dirty laundry, realized that she didn't have a clean skirt that would be appropriate for the nearly two hour long trip.

"Oh my gosh!" Cathleen yelled as she pulled out dirty skirt after dirty skirt. She knew that she was getting low in clean clothes but to not have a clean skirt to see her father in would only further anger the man.

"What's wrong?" Debbie and Helen asked simultaneously.

"I don't have a clean skirt or dress to wear," Cathleen collapsed on her bed, defeated. "This is a nightmare."

"Okay, so you don't have a skirt," Helen said calmly. "What about that great pantsuit from Bloomingdale's you got-"

"No go," Debbie said as she got up from her typewriter and went rummaging around in Cathleen's bureau. "Whoa, you really don't have a skirt to wear." Cathleen rolled her eyes at Debbie.

"I told you," Cathleen sighed as she got up and grabbed her comb. "I mean I only have one option and that will set Father's anger to boiling." Though the girls had originally thought Cathleen was exaggerating when she talked about her father's temper, as they got to know the kind Cathleen Simmons, they also got to know the interesting moods and harsh words of Douglas Simmons.

"He really will blow his top if he sees pants?" Helen asked as she rummaged through Cathleen's expensive wardrobe.

"Helen you have no idea," Debbie said as she held up a plaid skirt for closer inspection. "Cathleen and I once wore our bathing suits from her room down to the pool without a cover-up. Mr. Simmons gave us a five minute lecture on the appropriate attire of the Manor."

"That's nothing," Cathleen said as she began to fix her hair. "I wasn't allowed sneakers until the school nurse sent me home from school with a broken toe from slipping on the gym floor." Cathleen saw the grimaces on Helen and Debbie's face and smiled broadly. "Hey, are we going to reminisce about my childhood or are you going to help me get ready?"

Immediately Debbie and Helen set about getting Cathleen's things gathered together and gave their advice about her hair. It was eventually decided that Cathleen had no other option but to wear the pantsuit that she had bought on a dare – well and the fact that the dark blue color brought out her eyes. Though she tried to dress the dark garment as much as possible Cathleen couldn't get rid of that nagging feeling that her father would be adding her improper attire to the growing list of faults he found in his only child. And though that thought lurked in the forefront of her mind, Cathleen was still pleased to see that the two people who knew her best were attempting to cheer her up.

"Okay," Helen said stepping back from the three suitcases that Cathleen would take, "I'm done packing."

"Make-up and hair are perfect." Debbie said as she looked over her Cathleen's face appraisingly, "Now all you have to do is sit down whenever possible." Cathleen was about to respond when a sharp knock was heard on the door. The three women looked at each other silently, knowing who was on the other side of the door.

"Yes?" Helen spoke first.

"I'm Mr. Simmons' driver," the low male voice replied. "I'm here to pick up Miss Cathleen."

"One second," Debbie yelled as Cathleen rushed to pull on her hat and get into her high heels. Helen rushed over to her friend with her good winter coat and once it was completely buttoned up the three of them nodded to each other. A signal for Debbie to look relaxed by her typewriter and Helen to pretend she was reading one of Cathleen's many textbooks. Though each one of them was really paying close attention to what happened next. Cathleen slowly walked up to the door and opened it with a smile and saw the wizened face of Campbell, one of her father's three drivers. Unfortunately for Cathleen, he was also the one most loyal to her father and of course he noticed the pants immediately.

"Campbell," Cathleen said as she let the older man in the room, purposely leaving the door wide open.

"Miss Cathleen," he replied as he went straight to her luggage. "That is quite a suit, Miss Cathleen. Did you get that on your own?" Cathleen knew it was a rhetorical question but one she had to answer or else it would set off a bad mood for the ride. As the driver picked up the two largest of Cathleen's luggage she exchanged a wink with Helen and Debbie.

"Yes, I did, Campbell. Do you like it?" Cathleen turned quickly around to show off the outfit to its best advantage as Campbell silently made his way out of the room. "I'll see you on Monday, Helen." Cathleen went to hug her as Helen sat up.

"Good luck, Cattywatt," Helen answered as the two friends quickly embraced.

"Debbie," Cathleen made her way over to her roommate. "I'll see you tomorrow night, right?" Debbie had managed an invitation to the elite party because her father did business with Cathleen's grandfather. Of course, it had been five years since her grandfather had actually worked; but in these upper crusts of society one never let go of a valuable ally and Cathleen's maternal grandfather was extremely valuable.

"Of course you will, Cathleen." As the pair hugged tightly Cathleen found relief in the fact that if she survived to see the next day, she would be rewarded to go to a party with a friendly face.

"Okay, I'll see you both soon." Cathleen grabbed her remaining luggage, purse and gloves and made her way out to the waiting limousine and Campbell's stern face. Offering an unreturned smile and her remaining suitcase to the driver, Cathleen entered the opened door.

"Thank you, Campbell." Cathleen was greeted to a grunt by the older man and a firm shutting of the door. When she heard the trunk's door close Cathleen leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. Sleep soon overtook her as the limousine pulled out of the college's campus and onto the main road.

"Wake up, Miss Cathleen," Campbell yelled as he rapped against the partition separating the driver from the passengers.

"Sorry, Campbell," Cathleen plastered a smile on her face. "How much longer do we have?"

"We're almost to the drive." Campbell smiled as he informed Cathleen that they had mere minutes for Cathleen to compose herself and freshen up. Refusing to show the shock that she felt Cathleen reached for her compact.

"Two hours passed that quickly?" Cathleen opened the compact and touched up her make-up. She would have gotten out her lipstick but Campbell liked to take the turn onto the drive a tad too hard when Cathleen was in the car. Which made her slide in her seat and there was no way to apply lipstick to perfection with a less than steady hand.

"Well, I called you name when we were thirty minutes away. You must not have heard me over that snoring of yours." Campbell timed his comment perfectly with the movement of the car and the only thing that saved Cathleen from sliding was her firm grip on the door's handle.

"I suppose I didn't." Cathleen said as she touched up her lipstick and composed herself before the limousine pulled up in front of the house. Looking outside her window Cathleen saw the usual group of servants lined up by the door. But what made this gathering unusual was the body in the doorway, framed by the light inside the mansion. "Campbell, is that my father?" The car slowed down to a stop as Cathleen's door lined up perfectly to the front entrance of the mansion. Campbell didn't reply just as Cathleen knew he wouldn't which only meant that yes, her father was waiting for her outside. Cathleen took a deep calming breath as the world slowed down and Campbell opened her door.

"Miss Cathleen," Without holding his hand to help Cathleen out, Campbell smiled broadly to the audience on the steps. Once all of Cathleen's things were out of the car, he slammed the door, making Cathleen jump.

"Cathleen," the loud, deep voice of Douglas Simmons drowned out the murmurs of the gossiping servants. "I see you still have an interesting taste in attire." Just as she expected, he went directly for the pantsuit Cathleen was wearing. Although it was expensive she was sure that it would be conveniently lost the moment she sent it to be washed.

"I'm sorry, Father," Cathleen said as she approached the stone entrance. "I was planning on-"

"Inside, Cathleen." Her father said as he turned abruptly around and marched inside. Behind her some servants scurried to take Cathleen's things to her room. Looking around she noticed that the whispers had resumed with the servants who still remained outside. Her father had fired the last servant Cathleen had become friends with, so she carefully abided by the unspoken rule that 'servants are for serving not talking to'. However, neither event had done anything to endear Cathleen to the people who worked in Fernhill Manor and whenever Cathleen was around she was sure they were only counting the days until she would be shipped off again.

Once Cathleen made it to the mansion's foyer, her jacket and purse were taken from her. As she looked around, Cathleen saw this familiar room for the museum that it was. She had always thought her house was a little more elegant than others; but as she began to spend more time in Dr. Jones's office and saw how he organized his treasures, Cathleen just felt more out of place in the place she grew up.

"Cathleen, you may enter," a tall, black man announced. The man had become a familiar figure in the last couple times Cathleen and her father had spoken to one another. She was told that the man's name was Louis and he was her father's personal bodyguard. Though Cathleen wondered why he needed a bodyguard when she knew for a fact that he prided himself for his still youthful figure and finesse, she didn't dare question the apparently excessive desire.

"Thank you, Louis," Cathleen quickly stepped past the man and did her best not to gag as his cologne overwhelmed her. Her heels made contact with marble for only a few more steps before they met the lush carpeting of the study that was off limits to her. Once she heard the click of the door being shut Cathleen took a good look around the room. She knew that it was designed with the utmost care by one of the best designers in New York City; but again Cathleen realized why she was always afraid of entering it. The man sitting at the desk in front of her had made her believe that every single thing in the room was worth more than her life. Cathleen remembered the few occasions that her father allowed her into his study and how he had recited the price and age for every single thing in the room. Looking back on those moments now Cathleen couldn't help but wonder if he knew what he was doing and the values he was instilling in the young Cathleen.

"Cathleen," Douglas Simmons said as he motioned to a chair in front of him while reading a piece of paper. It was with care that Cathleen slowly sat down in the chair that supposedly had once been in President Abraham Lincoln's White House. She also had to be extremely quiet as her father finished the task he was at and give his attention to her. She had learned this over the years and it was only recently that the need to break the silence first was lessened. In fact Cathleen could have been quite happy to spend numerous silent hours in this room with it's books on shelves as high as the ceiling, the roaring fireplace surrounded by chairs and of course all the pieces of history littered expertly around the room. Of course Cathleen knew that it was only a matter of time before her father decided he had enough of his daughter's presence and concluded his business with her. It was times like these that Cathleen wondered if her mother were around today would she be surprised or pleased to see the relationship between her husband and daughter. She hoped that had her mother stayed alive perhaps her father wouldn't spend so much time on Wall Street and maybe a semblance of a normal father daughter relationship would have been formed.

"Now, Cathleen," her father broke the silence as he took off his glasses. The grey haired man known as Douglas Simmons then frowned at Cathleen as he lounged in the green leather chair behind his desk. Knowing this certain act as not a sign of relaxation but one of intense thought, Cathleen's heart beat faster in anticipation of his next words. "It has come to my attention, Cathleen that you have disobeyed an order I gave you when you began to attend Marshall College." Pausing to reach for the paper he was reading Douglas then passed it to Cathleen. "Might you tell me why I see not only five courses on the school's bill, but also an Archaeology class listed?"

"I signed up for those courses, Father," Cathleen answered honestly. She wasn't about to give more information than was necessary – especially to someone who already had so much power over her.

"I understand that, Cathleen," he said as he took the paper back to his side of the desk. "But what did we discuss when you first went to Marshall College?" Cathleen's father allowed himself an indulgent smile that she was sure he meant to relax her, but only made her feel more tense.

"I agreed to discuss any and all classes I would be taking," Cathleen said automatically and when she didn't continue to explain Douglas took the paper in his hand once again and slid it across to her. They kept eye contact while he did this and Cathleen could have sworn that she saw a little wince in those dark blue eyes of his – eyes she had inherited. Cathleen thanked the gods that it was the only thing they shared as her delusions about her father began to melt away.

"And did you discuss this class with me?" her father then got up from the desk and walked over to Cathleen's side of the table. Leaning back in her chair defensively, Cathleen's mind went to work to see if her father was trapping her with his words. Unable to see any real threat Cathleen decided the truth would be best.

"Yes," she nodded. "We discussed those classes, Father." Apparently Cathleen said something unexpected as her father stopped walking and looked away. Something told her he couldn't hide his feelings, meaning that Cathleen had to press the slight advantage she had found. "Father, I am confused. I thought we said that since I couldn't major in Archaeology, you would allow me to take one course of my choosing while attending Marshall."

"Plans change, Cathleen." Douglas had finally composed himself enough that he could look Cathleen in the eye. "You should have told me of you desires. I'm sure we could have come to a mutually beneficial arrangement." His words made Cathleen's hair stand on end. Her father had gone into what she called 'business speak' and at times like these it was best to listen and not talk. However, Cathleen didn't want to be forced to withdraw from a class she enjoyed. So it was with all the courage in her heart that Cathleen took a deep breath and spoke.

"Father," Cathleen stood up to her full height, which in heels meant that she and her father were practically eye to eye. "I gather that this is about one course and one course only, correct? I'm supposing that the class is the Archaeology class that I had to go to the professor himself to get in?" Unwilling to back down, though her instincts were screaming for her to back off, Cathleen saw an out of this conversation – that if tired enough, her father just might concede. "Am I to withdraw from the class, Father?" Just as she hoped, Douglas Simmons turned back to the desk and sat down behind it. He waited until his glasses were on his face to look at Cathleen, who had decided to keep standing though she'd yet to decide if this was a smart idea or not. As father and daughter looked at each other with identical eyes Cathleen realized that she just had her first victory.

"You will not tell your grandmother of this, Cathleen." Douglas said smoothly as he put the school bill aside and took out a small folder.

"Of course not, Father." Cathleen looked at her father's head as he became engrossed in the contents of the folder.

"Very well," Douglas agreed and waved his hand. "Send Louis in and you may go to your room. Call down to the kitchen when you're ready to have dinner sent up."

"Thank you, Father," Cathleen said before she opened the door to Louis and closed it quickly. She beat a hasty retreat to her room through the many hallways Fernhill Manor contained. Once she closed the door of her bedroom – and only then – could she truly enjoy her small but important victory over her father.

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**Review and I will happily reciprocate! Also, I'd love to hear your thoughts about Cathleen's father, Douglas. **


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